


Silence

by AuroraNova



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5132048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel couldn't help feeling that he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. And then it did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story posted on my LJ in 2010. I wrote it for Round VII of the J/D Ficathon. Original notes below.
> 
> Standard disclaimer: I own nothing herein and make no profit from this story. 
> 
> Written for: tresa_cho, who asked for 1. water 2. hurt/comfort, with an optional request of escape from hostile aliens.
> 
> Author’s reflection on challenge: I got the hurt/comfort requirement in spades. Water is less present through the whole story, but important in the scene which inspired the story. Escape from hostile aliens happens prior to the real action.
> 
> Many thanks to catspaw_sgjd for a super-fast beta reading!

Daniel had finally, after a difficult few months, adjusted to his life again. He didn’t remember much about being ascended, but he did wonder why it had ever seemed so appealing. He couldn’t do anything, from what Jack had told him and what little he recalled. And leaving Jack – well, he could only attribute that to the radiation poisoning, because why else would he do a stupid thing like that? But Jack forgave him, even if he didn’t think he deserved it.

There were times, especially after his body was taken over by other consciousnesses, and after a particularly bad nightmare about dying, that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. He’d thought that his gnawing apprehension would fade, but it didn’t, not even when his memories were back and he felt, otherwise, like his life was back to what passed for normal. Gate travel still filled him with wonder, but also fear that he hid behind the trauma of memory loss. He tried not to dwell on it, but couldn’t help feeling that he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then it did.

It took SG-1, SG-3, and SG-12 to rescue Jack, and they got him back, but in a way, they were too late. The damned Oglani did some kind of fusing of Jack’s vocal chords. Apparently that was the first step in making him a good, obedient slave. Janet said that the Oglani had to be medically advanced, because they somehow managed to remove the potential to make sound without interfering with breathing and swallowing.

Jack spent five days in the infirmary. He refused to acknowledge any visitors after the first two hours. In fact, he scribbled a note demanding that Janet not allow visitors.

Janet spent all of her time trying to find a way to allow Jack to speak, consulting half the scientists on the base and specialists from around the world, but even she knew it was a lost cause. This was simply beyond them. Not even the Tok’ra had any ideas, reported Jacob Carter regretfully.

Daniel stayed in the infirmary, just on the other side of the curtain that blocked his view of Jack. When Janet or Dr. Warner made him, he left for a shower and a few hours of sleep in lockdown quarters before returning. He couldn’t leave, couldn’t function, couldn’t do anything at all but wait. He couldn’t even work up the energy to be angry at Jack for shutting him out, because he suspected that if their positions were reversed he might’ve done the same thing. It was too much, too terrible.

Sam and Teal’c, being unable to comfort Jack, had tried to comfort Daniel. And for the first time, Daniel wished that they didn’t know about his relationship with Jack. He refused to be comforted while he couldn’t be with Jack. Eventually they got the picture. Sam retreated to her lab to bury herself in research. Teal’c took up a semi-permanent residency in the gym that scared even the hardest of the Marines.

General Hammond wisely didn’t interfere with their various methods of coping (or not coping). Every morning and every afternoon he visited the infirmary to see if Jack was up for company, respecting his 2IC’s requests when Jack inevitably failed to allow the general to see him. Then Hammond spent a couple of minutes in silent support with Daniel before leaving.

On the fourth day, Daniel had had enough. “Could I speak with you privately?” he asked Janet.

“Of course. My office?”

That suited Daniel perfectly. “I have to see Jack,” he told her once the door was closed.

“I’m sorry, Daniel, but Colonel O’Neill has made his wishes very clear.” Her voice was compassionate but firm.

“You don’t understand.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t?”

He looked at the floor, dejected. “Jack’s going to get a medical retirement, isn’t he? Be honest.”

“I can’t…”

“Jack’s my partner, Janet. We’ve been together – well, if you count when I was ascended, which he does, almost three years now.”

“I see,” she said, calm and collected. “And I have to admit, I’m not entirely surprised.”

“Medical retirement?”

She nodded. “I hate to give up, but this is way beyond anything we’re familiar with. If his vocal chords had been cut, there are technological advances that could help. But this… it’s going to take a miracle, Daniel.”

Her words hurt even though he’d known they were coming, but Daniel forced himself to speak. “I know that I have no rights, but… I have to see him. It’s killing me, because I know him, and I know what he’s thinking. Trust me, Janet, he’s not going to snap out of this by himself.”

“I didn’t think he would,” she admitted. “Alright, Daniel. You may not have legal rights, but in view of your longstanding relationship, in my opinion, you have moral rights.”

“Thank you.”

She gave him one of her knowing gazes. “He’s going to need you.”

“I know.”

When Daniel slid the curtain open, Jack was clearly expecting Janet or one of the other medical staff, so he couldn’t pretend to be asleep. He could, however, promptly turn his back on Daniel.

Not easily deterred, Daniel dragged a chair over and sat down. First, before he said a word, he put Jack’s notepad and pen right beside him on the bed. The last thing Daniel wanted to do was make Jack think he was trying to trap him into a lecture.

Jack grabbed the pen and wrote, _Go away_.

“No.”

_Please._

“No, Jack. I’m not going away. Not ever.”

Jack scowled. _Go away, Daniel. Don’t try to fix me._

“I’m not going to fall for it, Jack. You can try to push me away, but I’m not going anywhere.” Because Daniel knew Jack, and therefore he knew Jack would somehow twist this so he saw himself as a burden on Daniel.

_It’s better if you do._

He’d expected this martyr complex. “No. Jack, look at me.” When his partner reluctantly complied, Daniel tried to pour his love into his gaze. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

That was at nine-thirty in the morning. Jack didn’t respond until almost three. He was reading the spy novel Teal’c had dropped off, although halfheartedly. In that time Daniel only left once, to go to the bathroom. He sat beside Jack and waited. Janet brought him a word search book, and he finished every single puzzle.

Finally Jack wrote again. _Be realistic, Daniel. Nobody wants to tell me, but I know my career is over._

“I know too. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But it doesn’t change us.”

_Don’t be stupid. Of course it does._

He leaned in, speaking quietly. “How?”

_Because you’ll be on SG-1 and I’ll be fishing in Minnesota._

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Jack crossed his arms in a blatant dare. Daniel had come prepared. On day two, he’d asked Teal’c to go to his new rental and retrieve his private journal. He knew Teal’c wouldn’t even be tempted to read it, such was the Jaffa’s respect for privacy. He’d bookmarked one especially clear page, waiting for the right moment to show it to Jack. It was his most recent thoughts on how he was no longer sure how long he could keep traveling though the gate, at least happily and possibly sanely. Not long before Jack’s accident, he’d finally admitted to himself that this state of mind was permanent and had in fact been working out how to broach the subject with his partner.

“Read this.” He handed the journal to Jack, who gave him a questioning look. “I want you to read it, Jack.”

A few minutes later, Jack closed the journal and reached for his pen. _I had no idea._

“I thought it would go away,” Daniel confessed. “And then I just didn’t know what to do. I’m not saying I want to leave SGC. I’d really like to stay here. Just not on SG-1. Which would, of course, mean something resembling normal hours.”

_The program needs you._

“No, it doesn’t. SGC continued just fine while I was ascended. Still, I think I can contribute from the mountain. We never have enough translators.”

_But you love digs._

“Yes. I do. Tell me, how often do I get a proper dig?”

_SG-11?_

“You know as well as I do that my skills are needed more in translation and understanding the bigger picture than uncovering individual artifacts.”

Jack had no response to that.

“So I want you to think about something, Jack. Maybe we find another miracle. I hope we do. But if we don’t…”

_Medical retirement._

“Yes. And if that happens, we wouldn’t have to hide anymore. There have to be fish around here.”

_It’s about the fish-ING._

“Right. So you can find a fishing spot around here. Of course we’ll still go to the cabin.”

_Not the same._

“Maybe I don’t have the right to ask this, after what I did. But please, Jack, don’t run away from me.”

Jack hadn’t written anything, but he didn’t need to. He grabbed Daniel’s hand and clutched it like a lifeline.

* * *

General Hammond, who was probably starting to guess the true nature of their relationship, had given Daniel two weeks off before it was time to begin his new duties. He admitted that the Pentagon was happy to stop risking Daniel in the field anyway. During those two weeks, Daniel moved into Jack’s house (which wasn’t hard, because he didn’t yet have many belongings – his rental was furnished) and started teaching both of them sign language.

He’d tried keeping his talking to a minimum, in case that made it easier for Jack. That lasted about three hours before Jack shoved a notebook at him. _Damn it, talk!_

_Why are you here?_ wrote Jack the first night.

“You’re my partner and I love you. That hasn’t changed, Jack. **We** haven’t changed.”

_You don’t have to do this._

“I want to do this, Jack. I’m not here because I feel obligated or any other reason and you’d better get that through your head, because I’m not going anywhere.” When Jack didn’t look convinced, he asked, “If our positions were reversed, what would you do?”

Jack pulled him down on the couch and held his hand tightly, so Daniel figured he’d gotten the message.

“No more blocking me out. I’ve tolerated it this long, but no more, Jack. We’re not over.” He’d let this go because he knew Jack, in some twisted way, was allowing him a chance to leave because he felt honor-bound to let him be ‘free.’ But no more.

Jack nodded. He got the message. Things were as they always were. Daniel wasn’t one to make his partner talk, most of the time, but he demanded the right to be present, physically and emotionally.

They spent the rest of the evening watching a hockey game, or at least pretending to. Daniel’s interest in hockey was limited to begin with, and his thoughts kept circling back to Jack. He was pretty certain, at least, that Jack knew he was in this for the long haul. For better or worse.

But he still wondered how the hell they were going to navigate this new life.

They went to bed early, but Daniel woke up in the middle of the night. Jack was shaking, breathing hard, and... taking Daniel’s pulse? Oh. That could only mean one thing. “Nightmare?” asked Daniel groggily.

Jack nodded. Daniel eased over until they were holding each other, feeling Jack’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. He didn’t ask what it was about, because just then moving to get the pen and paper would’ve been too much. “I’m here, Jack. We’re both here.”

Carefully, deliberately, Jack traced onto his back. Daniel realized his partner had found a way around the pen and paper issue. _F-l-o-o-d. C-o-u-l-d-n-t w-a-r-n y-o-u._

That was about as much as Jack had ever explained when he had his voice. Nightmares tended to come with the territory on SG-1. Daniel rubbed circles on Jack’s back, trying to ground him in the present.

“Oh, Jack,” he whispered, a few tears leaking out. “I’m sorry. I keep thinking, maybe if-”

Jack put his hand over Daniel’s mouth and shook his head. In the moonlight, Daniel could see his partner automatically mouth _No_. Then he reached for the pad of paper.

_Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault but the damned Oglani._

Rationally, Daniel knew that. He hadn’t mistranslated anything, and they’d followed procedures exactly. Jack was on point, and he activated the trap. It was as simple as that. They couldn’t have predicted a slave-catching trap, couldn’t have done anything to get Jack back sooner once he was transported away.

Still, he kept searching his mind for something, anything that would’ve led to a different outcome.

Jack lay down again, and they stayed like that for a long time. Not sleeping, just taking and giving what comfort they could.

* * *

Daniel tried to be compassionate, but annoyance was creeping in. He suspected that Jack’s lack of interest in ASL was a denial mechanism, because learning ASL would make it all real. In fact, Jack wasn’t interested in much of anything. Sam and Teal’c had been over earlier with a movie, but Jack wasn’t great company and they didn’t stay long after the movie ended.

“Fine,” he announced. “You don’t have to. But I’m learning ASL, Jack, and you’ve had the TV all afternoon, so it’s my turn now.”

Jack scowled and buried himself in a book. Daniel was on the letter G when Jack slammed the book shut, stalked over, grabbed the remote, and turned the TV off.

“I was watching that.”

Jack sat on the other end of the couch in stony silence. Daniel slid over a notepad and pencil. “I at least deserve an explanation,” he said.

Jack scribbled and threw the notepad back. _I just can’t._

That was not very informative. Daniel moved over, taking the notepad with him, and pulled Jack so they were leaning together. “You’re not alone,” he said, tracing the veins on Jack’s left hand.

_I know._

“And we’ve established that I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

Jack nodded.

“No more shutting me out, remember?”

Slowly, Jack took the paper. _I’m not whole._

Daniel thought he understood where this was going. He kissed Jack and then made eye contact. “They took your voice, Jack, and that ended your career, not your future. Not your life. Not anything else that matters. This isn’t what we planned. But we’re both here, alive, and I for one am grateful for that much.”

Jack nodded again, and Daniel continued, “Besides, once you can sign, you can tell me all those comments you don’t want anyone else to overhear.”

That got a smile. A very small smile, but the first since he’d been captured. Daniel was relieved to see it. He knew this would be hard for Jack, but he was determined to show his partner that they still had a great future in store.

* * *

Daniel slept in their bed every night, but he waited for Jack to initiate sex. Jack had always been vocal during lovemaking, for one thing, and he needed Jack to know that he was sticking around, no matter what. So, to his frustration, their physical relationship remained stalled at brief kisses and cuddling on the couch. He wanted the affirmation of life he got from their lovemaking after a close call, but didn’t want to push Jack.

They spent most of the next two days working out the rhythms of their new life: turning the guest room into Daniel’s study, working out a system where Jack could get Daniel’s attention by whistling a specific series of notes, and learning sign language. Jack wasn’t happy about the ASL lessons, but he worked at it anyway. Daniel had his suspicions that Jack would rather spend the time learning sign language than explaining why he didn’t want to. He picked up the alphabet easily enough. Jack was a physical person, so the kinetic knowledge of ASL was not terribly difficult for him.

Friday evening, Teal’c showed up and announced that Daniel was going out.

“No, I’m staying with Jack,” corrected Daniel.

“You are not,” insisted Teal’c. “You must care for yourself as well, Daniel Jackson. Major Carter is expecting you shortly.”

“She is?”

“The two of you have been anticipating this day for some time. She has prepared her larger purse to covertly bring additional snacks into the movie theater.”

He’d forgotten. The movie theater – he and Sam had been looking forward to this release for a month.

“I have purchased a new chess set.” Teal’c held it up. Chess was a good idea. He and Jack had long been able to spend hours playing highly competitive chess and barely speak a word.

“Star Wars chess?”

Clearly pleased with this latest find, Teal’c magnanimously announced, “I will allow O’Neill to play as the Jedi.”

Jack pulled out a bag of Doritos and jotted a note telling Daniel to have fun and eat too much junk. Daniel managed to do both once the screen lit up. The movie was even better than they’d hoped. Sam had outdone herself sneaking snacks in, so they left on a bit of a sugar high. On the way back they had an animated discussion about the movie, disagreeing over whose acting deserved award nominations.

But then they got back to Sam’s place, and reality came crashing down again. He’d thought for a second what Jack would say about the plot, and then it hit him that Jack wouldn’t **say** anything again. Daniel slumped down onto Sam’s couch as he processed that.

Sam sat down beside him, declared, “You look like you need a hug,” and proceeded to do just that. When she pulled back, she said, “You know it’s not your fault, Daniel.”

“I know.” He did, and was sure that in time his heart would catch up to his brain on the matter.

Sam knew him too well. “Then why the guilty face?”

“I miss his voice,” admitted Daniel.

“Of course you do.”

Her acceptance stunned him for a moment, because Daniel had been busy chastising himself for being so selfish.

“But Jack’s the one who -”

He never got to finish, because Sam cut him off with, “I’m sorry for his losses – his voice, the team. But I’m also going to miss having him as my CO.”

“He’s a great commander,” agreed Daniel.

“Yes. But I notice you’re not telling me that I am being selfish.”

“It’s a change in your life too,” he retorted before the meaning sunk in. It applied to him as well as her.

Sam nodded, seeing his understanding dawn. “Don’t deny your loss, Daniel.”

“I love him, voice or no voice.”

“I know. That’s what’s going to get him through this. Without you I think he’d go hide away in his cabin.”

She was right about that. “He was going to, you know.” At that, he sat up. “I should go home.”

Sam didn’t argue, just gave him another hug and sent him home with her homemade white chocolate macadamia cookies.

When he got home, Teal’c called up from the roof, “Daniel Jackson, we are viewing your moon.”

Daniel brought the cookies up with him. It was a clear night, and while it was the cold typical of a Colorado winter at least there was next to no wind chill. Teal’c leaned back from the telescope and announced, “It does not resemble cheese at all.”

Jack looked at the bag in Daniel’s hands, which was hard to see in the shadows. Hesitantly, he signed out, _C-o-o-k-i-e-s?_

“Yes, Sam sent her white chocolate macadamia cookies.”

Jack promptly made a ‘gimme’ motion. Daniel handed the bag over, relieved. Jack had actually used sign language to communicate with him, and he might not even have realized the importance of that step, but it wasn’t lost on Daniel.

* * *

Daniel opened the door, even though Jack was closer to it. Jack didn’t like opening the door now, and Daniel wasn’t inclined to push the issue, at least for a while. So he put down his book, went to the door, and found General Hammond on the front steps.

“Come in,” he invited. “Jack’s in the living room.”

Hammond followed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, but took note of the new additions to Jack’s living room: Daniel’s favorite picture of the pyramids at Giza just as the sun rose, a small abstract sculpture given to Daniel by the King of Y’hal (a planet also known as P7Y-928), and the Egyptian-motif throw Sam had given Daniel for Christmas. The kinds of things one didn’t bring just for a temporary stay. Hammond observed but made no comment.

“Hello Jack,” he greeted.

Jack gestured to the couch, inviting the general to sit, which he did after handing over a gift-wrapped box.

“I know you’re not celebrating your retirement,” said Hammond, “but it seemed unfair to deprive you of gifts. Tessa wrapped it,” he added, which explained the purple, kitten-covered wrapping paper.

Jack adored presents and thought it was practically a crime to unwrap them carefully. He tore off the paper and revealed a fly-tying set, complete with instructional DVD. It promised to make tying great flies easy. Daniel was impressed with the general’s gift selection. Jack had commented a few times over the years that someday he wanted to learn fly fishing, and now was a good time for a new hobby.

_Thank you, sir_ , Jack wrote. _It’s great._

“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

Jack nodded.

“It won’t be the same without you, Jack, but I’m damned glad you’re alive. We weren’t sure at first.” After a glace at Daniel, the general amended, “Except Dr. Jackson. He was convinced that the Oglani intended to keep you alive.”

Daniel had been certain. If the Oglani wanted visitors dead, there were easier ways than the trap Jack fell into. The trap itself hadn’t shown any signs of being ritualized, either – it was a quick, practical way to catch live prisoners. Of course, he had no way of knowing how long the Oglani would keep Jack alive. They’d moved quickly, but not fast enough.

Not his fault, Daniel reminded himself. Not anyone’s fault but the Oglani's.

Hammond didn’t stay long, which worked out well because there was a History Channel special Daniel had missed the first time it aired (one of their increasingly rare good concepts). Jack made a face when reminded about this, but Daniel had been very generous in not subjecting Jack to many specials the past few days. And anyway, he decided that the History Channel fell under the category of their relationship being the same as before. Jack never cared for the History Channel unless the show was about planes, but he suffered through and liked to prove he paid attention by citing them two or three weeks later.

They lay down together. Jack’s couch – their couch – was nice and wide, bought with just this in mind. That was familiar. The silence wasn’t. Jack’s body was warm behind him, but Daniel kept expecting the usual sarcastic remarks his partner invariably made.

This was going to be harder than he’d anticipated, he realized. They would work things out, but Daniel was struck with a pang of regret that he’d never hear Jack’s commentary again.

During the first commercial break, Jack sat up and grabbed his pen and paper. _What’s the matter?_

“Nothing.”

_Liar._

Daniel raised his eyebrows in a slight challenge.

_You didn’t complain about the retroactive assumption of the codification of Hinduism._

The History Channel had an unfortunate tendency to blindly follow the common view that Hinduism had been a codified religion for millennia, a pet peeve of Daniel’s. Modern Hinduism had in fact been shaped significantly by the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British, who wanted a codified religion that they could neatly label as such, as opposed to an incredibly diverse collection of rituals and beliefs that formed a way of life. Since he always objected, Daniel couldn’t very well deny that the special hadn’t captured his full attention. Jack knew he’d caught Daniel and was waiting for his explanation.

“I don’t-” began Daniel. That wasn’t right. “I feel selfish,” he admitted, first and foremost, “but I was just waiting for your… unique comments.”

_Nice to know I’m not the only one who misses my voice._

“You know it doesn’t change anything, right?”

Jack nodded before looking down to write. In a minute he handed Daniel the paper. _You were pretty clear that you’re sticking around. I’m glad you are. But I know this isn’t easy for you either._

“Not easy,” he admitted, “a lot of it because I wish I could do more. But, it is what it is. We’ll figure it out together.”

Jack nodded and grabbed Daniel’s hand. It had been somewhat reassuring for Daniel to hear from Sam that his own sense of loss was understandable, but it was considerably more reassuring coming from Jack. He leaned against Jack and let his partner pull them back down to their former position in time for the resumption of his special.

* * *

Jack declined to accompany Daniel to the grocery store, and Daniel didn’t push even though he thought his partner really should get out of the house. But Jack moped around most of Monday, and by evening Daniel had had enough.

“We’re going out to dinner,” he announced.

Jack shook his head.

“Olive Garden.”

Jack loved Olive Garden, in no small part because of the unlimited breadsticks, but he shook his head again. Daniel was having none of it. “I’ve only had fettuccini alfredo once since I’ve been back.”

In a moment, Jack handed him a legal pad on which he’d written, _If it means that much to you._

“It does.” That was mostly true, even. Thinking about Olive Garden, Daniel had worked up a craving for fettuccini alfredo.

It was all very normal at first. Jack drove, and if the ride was quiet, it wasn’t the first time. Everything was unremarkable until the waitress asked if she could interest them in wine. Suddenly, Daniel feared he’d made a terrible mistake. They should’ve gone to the movies, or gone to shoot pool, or anything else that didn’t usually require speaking. Even the ice fishing Jack was always trying to get him to try.

“Just water,” he said, “for both of us.” Jack always got water with his meals. He said soda did nothing for thirst. And Janet hadn’t yet cleared him for alcohol, although Daniel suspected this was a measure to prevent self-medication more than anything else. For his part, Daniel was too busy with self-recrimination to think about his own drink order.

“Jack,” he said when the waitress left. “We can go, if you want.”

Jack shook his head and pulled a little notebook out of his jacket. _You’re right._

“If you’re sure.”

_I could hide, but this isn’t just me. Not going to make you hide too._

Daniel was overwhelmed, wondering how he’d been so fortunate to get Jack for a partner. Jack was doing this – more than Daniel had realized he was asking – out of love.

He reached out and brushed Jack’s hand ever so briefly. Later, when they’d adjusted more to Jack’s muteness, they could discuss if they wanted to be more out. Now was not the time, so Daniel settled for that fleeting contact.

“Thank you,” he said, but what he meant – and Jack heard – was ‘I love you.’

They didn’t linger, but the meal passed without incident. Jack wasn’t entirely comfortable, which put Daniel a bit on edge, but Jack was alive and otherwise well. Daniel reminded himself that it could’ve been much worse.

The ride home was a bit more eventful, and not in a good way; they very nearly took off someone’s car door. A young woman parked on the side of the road failed to look before swinging her door open, and only Jack’s quick reflexes prevented an accident. Daniel was planning to seduce Jack as soon as they got home, so he was especially glad the door-shearing was avoided. It would’ve entirely killed what little mood he’d managed to build up.

As soon as the front door was closed behind them Daniel pulled Jack in for a long kiss. His partner responded, if not with the intensity that such a move usually elicited. This kiss was a slow burn. Daniel added a little friction, waiting until he felt the beginnings of Jack’s arousal to speak. “I want you,” he said, voice already husky with love and desire. “I need you.”

His choice of words was entirely honest as well as deliberate. Daniel was not accustomed to admitting personal needs. Oh, he would admit that he needed more hours in a day or another reference book, but rarely confessed his deeper needs. Jack had never said a word about it, but on the rare occasion Daniel actually said he needed something, Jack did his best to provide. Daniel still voiced his personal needs infrequently, but using the word conveyed to Jack the importance of a request, because it wasn’t done lightly.

Jack ran his fingers over Daniel’s kiss-swollen lips and mouthed, _Daniel_. He then replaced his fingers with his lips and they kissed again, this time with a bit more vigor.

Daniel needed to show Jack all the love in his heart, everything Jack’s going out to dinner had stirred up. He needed to feel how alive they both were. Making out in the entryway was a good start.

Later, twined together enjoying the aftermath of their lovemaking, he felt a little lighter. It turned out that Jack had needed the same affirmations, and either hadn’t known or hadn’t admitted it. Daniel felt another piece of his world slip back into place.

* * *

Janet and Cassie came over with homemade fudge, and since Cassie was naturally talkative it was less noticeable that Jack couldn’t speak. Cassie had an entertaining take on the inadequacies of her high school physics class and an even more entertaining rendition of Sam’s horrified reactions to said inadequacies.

When that topic was exhausted, she looked around the living room and said, “So, I guess this means I don’t have to pretend I don’t know about you two, huh?” When both Jack and Daniel stared, she added, “If you didn’t want people to see you kissing, you really should’ve closed the door all the way.”

Daniel recovered enough to ask, “When?”

“Thanksgiving.”

That made sense, he supposed. He hadn’t been back from the ascended plane long, and Jack had been very, very thankful to have him back. Daniel was thankful to be back, and they had apparently failed to close the door entirely in their haste to express that gratitude. He was glad they’d only been kissing.

“You didn’t even tell me?” asked Janet.

Cassie looked at her mother, slightly guilty. “I thought maybe you knew, but if you didn’t, then I shouldn’t… not that I thought you would say or do anything, but I didn’t want to put you in a position where…” she trailed off.

Janet considered this, then nodded. “You were protecting all of us. When did you get so grown up?”

Never one to let a good opportunity go to waste, Cassie suggested, “That has to have some weight in curfew negotiations, right?”

At that, Jack smiled – a sight Daniel appreciated now that its appearance had become less frequent.

By the time they left Jack was in a pleasant mood both because Cassie was a great storyteller and because Janet had finally given up and grudgingly agreed not to make Jack see a counselor, at least for the time being. Since he couldn’t actually talk to a counselor, it might only frustrate him more. However, she insisted that he had to keep a journal and write in it every single day. Nobody had to see it, she promised, and Daniel swore he’d never open it. Jack wasn’t exactly thrilled, but since Mackenzie (or Quackzenie, as Jack called the psychiatrist) was the alternative, he dutifully kept the journal. She’d also made him promise to at least look at the online support group she’d found.

That afternoon was the first time Jack actually seemed to enjoy their daily ASL lesson. It was entirely possible that the amount of fudge they’d consumed gave them sugar highs. They left the video behind altogether and made up their own signs, for words like stargate, zat, and Goa’uld. Jack’s suggestions for Goa’uld got a little outrageous, and they ended up laughing. Of course, Jack’s laughter was silent now, with the occasional gasp, but it was the first time he’d laughed since being captured.

“Are those glowing eyes or beer goggles?” asked Daniel through his laughter.

_Better than an undulating vampire,_ wrote Jack.

This was good. This was them, the same as they’d always been. When Sam stopped in to drop off a casserole and brownies, both Jack and Daniel were grinning like idiots over prospective signs for staff weapon. The joviality was contagious, because Sam’s face lit up with a smile as Jack rummaged around for ice cream to put on brownies.

When Jack had another nightmare that night, Daniel clung to the recent memory of the afternoon, of the laughter and fun. Jack had a nightmare at least once a night, usually some variation of not being able to save people because he couldn’t speak.

_F-l-o-o-d_ , Jack signed out.

Daniel pulled up the blanket, which had ended up around their shins somehow, then settled back down facing his partner. Since Jack didn’t seem inclined to fall asleep right way, he suggested, “We never did decide on a sign for staff weapon.”

Jack had another idea altogether, which was to roll so he was half on top of Daniel and proceed to kiss him with clear intent. This, Daniel decided, was an even better middle-of-the-night activity, and he joined in wholeheartedly.

* * *

Daniel had coaxed Jack out for a matinee and was pleasantly surprised when Jack suggested picking up a few groceries on the way home. He hoped that meant Jack was slowly accepting this new reality. They were in the cereal aisle when someone called out, “Jack O’Neill!?!” Jack turned, recognized the man, and looked at Daniel.

“Jack was recently injured in the line of duty,” he explained, holding out his hand. “I’m Daniel Jackson.”

“Ben Ewell. Injured?” asked the man through their handshake.

Having applied himself to learning ASL, Jack was improving, but he still had to do a lot of spelling out. On the other hand, Daniel found that sign language wasn’t quite as easy for him as verbal language, so they were making progress together.

He translated, “Jack says it’s good to see you.”

Daniel was thankful that Ben handled the situation well. He was clearly thrown off-balance, but addressed Jack. “I saw you on TV about a year ago. What’ve you been up to?”

“Classified,” said Daniel, four letters into Jack’s spelling.

“Of course. Bitch of an injury, but give the fish hell.”

Smiling, Daniel translated, “Planning on it.”

“Some of us have a poker game every other Tuesday. I’m in the phone book. Look me up if you want in.”

“Thank you,” relayed Daniel.

“I’ve gotta run, hot date later tonight. Good to see you, Jack. Daniel, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said, and then, “Jack says take care.”

“You too.”

“So, poker nights,” he said when Ben was gone.

_Maybe._

He didn’t know if it was his disability stopping Jack, or the very real concern that old Air Force buddies weren’t likely to approve of their relationship, or something else he couldn’t even think of at the moment. He doubted Jack would pursue the invitation, but decided that overall this encounter could be considered a success.

And if later Jack threw the remote at the TV during their ASL lesson when they got home, well, he had good reason to be angry. Daniel just picked up the remote and rewound the DVD. He focused on learning the signs himself, as that was the most effective tactic when Jack was less than engaged in the learning process. Jack would sulk, but eventually get back to the lesson. Also, he had a truly amazing capacity to absorb material while sulking. That was proving very useful with ASL.

* * *

The day before Daniel went back to work, General Hammond stopped by again.

“This is partially an official visit,” he explained, “Jack, I know your retirement paperwork is being processed, but you have a wealth of knowledge about the stargate program and what it’s like offworld. You know how difficult it is to train new personnel, both civilian and military. The Air Force would like you to consider writing a training manual. You’d be well compensated, of course.”

Jack nodded, which prompted Hammond to hand over a laptop case. “We thought you’d say yes. This computer doesn’t go online. It can’t be hacked into, or so I’m told. Major Carter personally transferred your files and set it up as you prefer.”

Bless Sam for that. Jack liked his computers to operate more or less the same way. It had taken him months to adjust when the Air Force switched manufacturers and the new computers were organized differently. Jack already had more than enough frustration to deal with.

Daniel was a bit concerned about leaving Jack alone all day to wallow. Realistically, he knew he had to get back to work, and there was only so much he could do to help. Jack would have to muddle through adjusting to retirement. Still, the training manual was going to help. It would give Jack something useful and productive to occupy his days.

“I have a list of topics we’re particularly interested in,” said the general, handing Jack a sheet of paper.

Jack scanned the list, then grabbed a pen and wrote on the back, _Can do. Missed a few, though._

“We’re counting on your additions,” Hammond said.

Personally, Daniel was looking forward to seeing how Jack’s unique sense of humor manifested itself in the training manual. This could be very interesting.

“He can write a whole chapter on Goa’uld baiting,” commented Daniel.

“I don’t think we need to encourage that.”

“Strategic,” clarified Daniel. “How to keep the Goa’uld focused on you and thus protect your team.”

_When your archaeologist lets you_ , added Jack with a pointed look at Daniel.

“In my defense, sometimes I was a necessary diversion.”

Jack held up his hands and gave an exaggerated sigh.

Hammond smiled and shook his head slightly, in the way that always made Daniel feel a bit like the general was indulging them. “Do take time to indulge yourself, Jack.”

_Carter’s got the indulgent baked goods covered,_ wrote Jack. It was Sam’s way of feeling like she was helpful.

“He’s already planning an extensive garden.” Daniel thought that, given it had been years since Jack had last had a garden, starting small might be a good idea. Jack disagreed. Maybe he needed the grand plans to occupy his mind. “I think he’s going to plant every vegetable that has a chance of growing in Colorado.”

“That’s a good way to see what plants take to your land,” agreed Hammond. “If you need help weeding, the girls are always trying to hire out their services in the summer.”

_I’ll keep them in mind._

It turned out that the general was a gardener himself, of a sort. He had a garden because it was a good grandfather-granddaughters activity. Hammond was a good man, and if he felt a bit awkward – about relating to Jack or their increasingly obvious relationship – he showed no sign of it. Before he left, he promised to give Jack some pumpkin seeds, saved from last summer’s bountiful crop.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Teal’c called because someone on base had talked up the “Die Hard” movies and he wanted to schedule a movie marathon. Jack and Teal’c always nitpicked action movies, pointing out flaws like unbelievably stupid villains (a perennial favorite) or points where the hero could’ve minimized civilian casualties. They seemed to enjoy it, so a “Die Hard” marathon was planned for Saturday. Senator Kinsey made the national news with his latest pledge to curtail ‘this country’s profligate, wasteful military expenditures,’ which led to a long recounting of the senator’s hypocrisy and Jack filling Daniel in on what their elected nemesis had done while Daniel was ascended. They opted for comfort food after that, specifically by finishing off the banana bread Sam had dropped off. Daniel got an email from Cassie; Jeopardy! was going to be in the area looking for contestants and she thought Daniel would make a great one. The Air Force was unlikely to approve and Daniel had more important matters, but he appreciated Cassie’s confidence in him.

He and Jack had developed a comfortable ritual of writing in their journals before bed. Daniel, who’d always found writing to help him process events and thoughts, did this much more willingly than Jack, who was only doing it to avoid Janet insisting on therapy. (And because Janet could always tell when someone lied about following medical orders.)

Jack moved closer to Daniel on the couch and handed his journal, tapping the right-hand page. “You want me to read it?” asked Daniel, surprised. But Jack nodded.

Evidently Jack had taken the instructions to record his activities and emotions literally, or possibly he just found list format easier.

_Emotions:_  
_1\. Surprisingly happy about training manual project. Something useful to do._  
_2\. Damned lucky to have Daniel. Would become miserable, lonely bastard without him._

_Thank you_ , signed Jack.

“Oh, Jack.” Daniel returned the journal and kissed his partner. “We’re both lucky. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jack scrawled on the side of his journal, _Lucky? Now you’ll be stuck translating for me._

“Lucky. I spent a year on another plane of existence and you still loved me, took me back without hesitation. When we were at Olive Garden, and I realized you did that for me, Jack, I felt incredibly fortunate to have such a loving partner. Besides, I won’t have to translate for you all the time. I happen to know that Sam, Janet, and Teal’c all bought DVDs to start learning sign language. And before you even start in, they’re doing it because they want to. Because they care about you. You’d do the same, and you know it.”

His partner thought for a second before nodding. Both of them went back to their journals; Daniel abbreviated his own entry when Jack finished. They turned off the light and settled in bed, Daniel lying on his back with Jack close against his side.

It occurred to Daniel that the Oglani had taken Jack’s voice, but in doing so given them a freedom they’d never enjoyed before. They could go to bed like this every night now, and not worry about being found out. It was something, at least, and any silver lining was better than none.

* * *

Daniel had never been a fan of text messaging before. Practically overnight he grew an appreciation for it. His first day back he had to work late, but he didn’t want to call Jack. It didn’t seem fair that only he could communicate. So, thankful for Cassie’s lesson on text messaging, he used that feature to tell Jack he had an emergency translation for SG-2. Jack sent back, _What else is new?_

It was weird to be back but no longer on SG-1, but Daniel didn’t regret his decision. That choice hadn’t been made hastily or lightly. He would miss it, of course, but gate travel had taken its toll on him, and leaving active field duty was the right choice. It wouldn’t have felt right without Jack, but that was only the final factor. Daniel had been trying to pretend nothing had changed after his ascension, but gate travel was dangerous, and he had finally admitted that the danger and risks (and, of course, dying) outweighed the adventure and excitement.

Jack never said anything, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t be home all the time worrying about Daniel, out in the big bad galaxy without him. Daniel still felt badly about staying late and leaving Jack alone for so long after all the time they’d spent together, but it couldn’t be helped. At least Jack had his training manual to work on, and when Daniel left that morning his partner had been sliding the fly-tying DVD in. Jack had things to occupy him.

Still, it had been hard to leave and go to SGC knowing Jack was at home, that Jack would always be at home. Oh, he might get called in from time to time, but that was different. And if it was hard for Daniel, it had to be worse for Jack. Daniel was not fooled by Jack’s too-cheerful demeanor as he unpacked the fly-tying kit and asked if Daniel would consider getting a dog. Jack was hurting, and that hurt him.

Daniel was giving serious consideration to the dog idea, because Jack had mentioned on more than one occasion that he wanted to get a dog once he retired. Daniel didn’t mind dogs, but he thought any dog would be Jack’s – Jack’s companion and responsibility. Dogs, Daniel thought, were rather needy. But he thought it would make Jack happy, so he was strongly inclined to agree.

Janet had, predictably, visited Daniel in his office to ask about Jack. She was particularly concerned with his state of mind, but Daniel was able to reassure her somewhat that Jack was doing about as well as could be expected. She was pleased and more than a little surprised that Jack wasn’t bottling all of his feelings up. Daniel suspected it was probably the first time anyone called remote-throwing a ‘more or less healthy’ reaction. Janet then proceeded to inquire about Daniel.

“I wish I could do more,” he admitted.

“You’re doing more than you realize,” she replied. “But don’t lose sight of what you need, Daniel. And you know where I am if you need to talk.”

She couldn’t have the answers he really wanted, like how long it would take before they worked out a new kind of normalcy. Still, she was a good listener and Daniel knew she meant every offer of help or a sympathetic ear.

On impulse, he asked what she thought of getting a dog. Janet’s advice was, “Only if you’d enjoy having one around, Daniel. If you would, I think it could be good for him. If not, neither of you needs the added stress.”

Clearly, this matter of a dog was going to require more thought.

When he got home that night he couldn’t find Jack in the house, so he headed up to the roof. There he found his partner, but not looking through his telescope. No, Jack was screaming without making a sound other than the gasping noise that sometimes came out.

Daniel walked over and hugged Jack from behind, holding him while he silently raged. It wasn’t fair, and the powerlessness of the situation had to be grating on Jack. They stood like that for a few minutes, not moving even when Daniel’s tears had made a wet spot on Jack’s shoulder. It was Jack who turned around, and he was crying too. Daniel had never seen Jack truly cry, and he wasn’t sure he ever would again.

Jack backed up far enough to free his hands. _G-l-a-d me and not you._

Daniel hadn’t cried so hard since his parents died, not even over Sha’re, because he had been too busy with anger and guilt then. “God, Jack.” But to have Jack sign that just as his inability to speak was tormenting him – the selflessness of it was almost too much. It was a blow to his already aching heart.

_You n-e-e-d to talk._

He crushed Jack to him, and even that couldn’t be close enough. They clung to each other, and Daniel whispered, “I love you, I love you.” He was overwhelmingly relieved that Jack wasn’t shutting him out anymore. Those first three days had been hell. He was happy with his new position at SGC, and he liked that they could discuss being more open about their relationship sooner rather than later. But Jack’s injury pained him, because he could only do so much and he hated to see Jack so lost.

He had no idea how long they stood together up there, both of them silent, but eventually they were both breathing normally and no more tears were falling. Hesitantly, Jack stepped back. For the first time, he signed, _I love you, D-a-n-i-e-l._

They kissed on the roof. That was another first, because of course they’d always had to worry that the McKinleys across the street would see. After they just stood there, foreheads together, recovering from all the emotion. Daniel was cold, he could feel his eyes puffing up from the crying, and yet he felt better than he had since Jack’s abduction. Because he knew then with absolute certainty that they would be better than okay – in time, they would be great again.


End file.
